My Quest for the Holy Grail

My dream last night had all this weird Christian imagery.

I was with some guy and girl, I don’t know who they were, and we were looking for the Holy Grail.  We were in some small town in like Germany or something…it kind of looked like Germany, from the buildings.  And every night we’d go into…I don’t know what it was.  It had stone walls, but it had grass growing up out of the floor, and it was really dark, and it was really, really big, and we’d get a little bit farther every night, but if we hadn’t reached the Grail by a certain time, I guess, we were sent back to the beginning.  We found the Ten Commandments and the Cross–the Ten Commandments and the Cross–but we couldn’t find the Grail.  We kept getting sent back, and eventually I was getting impatient and was all, “How many times do we have to pass the Ten Commandments and the Cross!?  Yes, they’re cool, but we have to find the Grail!”

We were all wearing Spanish Conquistador helmets, and there were like helmets strewn about the ground, many with arrows sticking out of them–big, heavy, metal arrows that could break through a helmet like that.  These represented the bodies of all the unworthy souls who had not made it to the Grail.  They had been slain by…I guess angels.  I think that’s what they were.

So one day, we’re standing by a wall, right near the Ten Commandments, and studying a map that we’ve been creating of this place, when one of those huge arrows flies right between two of us and pierces the stone wall.  We’re all a bit shaken as we look up and see an angel standing several yards away, staring at us solemnly, still holding the bow, which has another arrow in it.  He says that the unworthy one must come forward and meet him, because that one could no longer continue the search.

We all sort of looked at each other, questioning, but I knew, somehow, that I was not worthy.  And then the angel spoke right into my head, saying, “Come forth”, and so of course I had to.  He was pointing an arrow at me.

So I tentatively approached the angel, who had a sheet of paper or two, and a question.  I think it may have been a Bible verse.  Something about a path–oh!  I think it might have been Ezekiel 25:17!  You know, the one Samuel L. Jackson shouts at that guy in Pulp Fiction before blowing his brains out!  Anyway, I had to fill in the blank…something about the path of the righteous man, and how it was a metaphor for his life and his overall philosophy, and I remember some of the words–there were a lot–like, your path should be _____.  Some of the words he showed me were happy, lucky, right, divine….

I can’t remember which word I chose, but it was obviously the wrong word.  The angel didn’t shoot me, but he led me out of the whole…whatever it was…by the arm, and I think that may have meant that I died….  I’m not sure.  But either way, I wasn’t allowed to search for the Grail because my motives were impure.  See, I was only searching for it because I thought going on a quest–for the Holy Grail, of all things–would be fun.  Fun is not a correct motive to have to search for the Grail.  Apparently.

I love my dreams.

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Monica Quotes and a Weird Dream

I went out with Monica and Lisa tonight for the first time in a while and told them what I’m going to attempt to do for my Halloween costume (Slave Leia, to refresh your memory) and Monica said, just like this:  “Is that the one who was attached to Zha-Zha Bing?”

That quote just had to be preserved.

And, flatteringly, later on Monica said that she was sorry her blog was not as interesting as mine, and Lisa said, “Nobody’s blog is as interesting as Ginny’s.” That made me feel happy.

Had this crazy dream a few nights ago that I was in this big building that seemed to be the human equivalent of one of those little ant trap things.  You know, flat, roundish, claustrophobic, a few openings all around.  Anyway, it seemed that both Jurassic Park and The Walking Dead had exploded outside the giant ant trap, because it was completely surrounded by both dinosaurs and zombies.  Nearly everybody in there who was hiding had a gun.  I had this huge thing–I forget what it’s called, but I joked to The Mormon while watching Predator the day before that it looked like the thing Wayne Szelinski used to shrink his kids.  And suddenly I’m this amazing shot who hits everything dead-on.

There was this one guy running around with a pistol and shooting everything–he, too, was hitting everything he aimed for.  He shot some guy, and I yelled at him, “HE WAS ON OUR SIDE!  He was alive!  Great!  And now he’s just going to wake up and turn into a zombie!”

Pistol Guy replied, “Well, so I’ll shoot him again!”

Then I realized that we all needed to whisper, because the dinosaurs could hear us from outside, and we didn’t want t-rexes coming and sticking their heads into the openings and snatching people out.  We didn’t need any more attention drawn to us than was absolutely necessary.  Of course, nobody else seemed to care and kept talking in normal voices, which really irritated me.

Alien Plants, a Huntsman, and a Werewolf

I’ll start with the creepy apocalyptic/aliens one from about two nights ago.  In it, these aliens moved the Earth closer to the sun, or the sun closer to the Earth, one or the other.  As a result, the entire world was rapidly being killed from rapidly-advancing but suddenly-onset diseases, caused by being much closer to the sun than we should have been.

However, as if that wasn’t bad enough, the aliens, in their huge, bell-shaped spacecraft, were beaming some of us up.  There were several crowd scenes where we were all running and screaming towards buildings which we assumed would protect us from being beamed up into the giant bells, where we all figured we would be killed instantly in horrible ways.

Well, The Mormon and I were running toward some big building, and just as I got inside, I turned to look, and the giant bell craft got him.  At this point, I started crying very wetly, which woke me up briefly, and then I instantly went right back into the dream.

I had decided to go to Virginia and say good-bye to old friends there, as the entire world was ending, one way or another.  And then the next thing I knew, I got beamed up into a giant bell thing.

I was not killed immediately upon arrival, however.  I was just…there, alone, and so I started wandering, because somewhere there were either other people or my doom, one or the other.  But standing there was getting me nowhere.

I went into this one dimly-lit room, the floor of which was like one of those bouncy things that they sometimes have at little kids’ parties, and so I had to bounce all around, and on one wall was a little opening where this huge, slimy alien plant thing with lots of vines sat.

There were several patches on the floor, and the entire back wall across from the giant plant was the same, that were like flypaper–if you got stuck to them, the plant would reach out big vines and…eat you.  I discovered this when a couple of people that I vaguely recognized from UNF wandered into the room and bounced into these spots and got stuck.

After that horrible sight, I tried to bounce out of the room and accidentally bounced into the back wall, but fortunately I was wearing a jacket and was able to detach myself before the plant could eat me.

So then I was leaving the room, and I ran into this guy I know from my line at work (Michelle calls him The Leprechaun–he’s very cute, a sophomore now, I believe, and just this nice guy who always talks to me because at one time he had a crush on me, and may still).  Anyway.  So I saw a friendly, familiar face.  Except he looked somewhat–tired.  He still smiled and said it was good to see me, and when I asked what he’d been doing since he’d been beamed up, he explained casually that he was breeding with the plants.

After the horror of this statement had sunk in, he then explained that that was the only option for staying alive and that the aliens would just feed you to the plants if you didn’t wish to breed with them.

Then, thinking that perhaps The Mormon could possibly still be alive, I showed him a photo of The Mormon and asked frantically if he had seen him–he hadn’t.  So I left him to his business with the plant and bounced to the door, where Invader Zim (he came to about my knees) was standing and laughing maniacally.  Then I woke up.  *shudder*

A few nights further back, I had this dream that the cafe crew (Michelle, Dennis, Turtle, Adrianna–The Mormon may also have been there, but really the ones I remember most clearly are Michelle and Adrianna) and I were…I’m not sure if it was Earth or not, but there was a lot of land that we were running over, because the Huntsman from The 10th Kingdom was chasing us.  For those of you who have not seen this movie, the Huntsman is this creepy dude with a bow and arrows that will not stop until they have struck someone in the heart.  And all he does is hunt people.

So somehow we’ve evaded him, and we arrive at this house on the edge of a lake.  But the people who live in it…aren’t exactly people.  I think they could sort of…glide…and they could Apparate, I think, and…I’m not quite sure what they were.  But I think they ate people, too (weird recurring theme here).

But their creepy wrath was easily avoided as long as you knew the correct protocol for knocking on their door.  Adrianna did.  It involved going around to the back of the house and…I don’t remember.  A series of carefully planned knocks or something.  But we had to do it quickly, so the Huntsman wouldn’t sniff us out or something.  Like, I guess we were safe inside the house because even he couldn’t get past these things, whatever they were.

We went inside to get new supplies and things to continue running all over this world, whatever it was.

When we went back out the back door, I decided we should not only wade through the lake a bit before backtracking, as had been our original plan, but to actually swim all the way across it–the Huntsman wouldn’t expect that.  It was a big lake.  I was convinced we could do it, however.  It was our lives, after all.

That was the plan.  But the Huntsman was already there.  And there was this battle with all of us (creeps included) and him, and he died (supposedly).  I, however, was certain he was not really dead, and pulled Michelle aside to try and make her see reason.  (“It’s just like in a horror movie, when you think the bad guy is dead, but he really isn’t!  He’s going to come back for us!” I said.)

But Michelle, alas, did not believe me, and wouldn’t help me convince the group.  So we went back into the creepy people’s house to have a celebratory meal and then head back the way we’d come, as the Huntsman was now dead.

And as we’re sitting there, I’m just staring out the back window, waiting for him to pop up or something, when this man started coming from the direction of the lake, and I immediately recognized him and said, “Oh my god, that’s him!”

But everybody else looked out there and said, “What?  No, it isn’t!  They look nothing alike!”  And when I looked more closely, I saw that that was true, but I knew it was really the Huntsman in disguise.  And then the guy’s wife appeared behind him, and they were both headed for the door, but I knew it was just the Huntsman playing tricks with us, and they let him (and his “wife”) inside and invited them to dinner, and as they sat down, I looked in his eyes and knew that he knew that I knew.

And the last one:  I’ll simplify this one.  Basically, this wolf bit me and it turned me into a werewolf.  But when I changed, I just looked like a regular wolf.  Except I didn’t realize I was changing.  I was with a group of people, and then I gradually realized they couldn’t understand what I was saying, and I couldn’t figure that out, and then they kept saying, “Awww, isn’t she cute?” and reaching out to pet me, and finally I realized that my hand was a furry paw, and the reason they couldn’t hear me speak was because I was, in fact, a wolf.

Except, for a werewolf, I had no taste for human blood–or really, any blood at all.  It was quite strange.

Guess I’ll stop there.

Very In-Character Dreams

Because I stayed up so late last night, I am now exhausted and am going to sign off as soon as I record these two dreams, because they’re both really funny, for how in-character everybody was in them.

In the first one, Cortney’s brother Matt, for some reason, looked just like Tom Riddle, and I somehow (no idea how, though) knew that he was a dark wizard.  But Cortney had no idea.  She just thought he was cool because he was her brother and he was a wizard.

So later, he was going to cast some spell that I knew was going to be evil, so I cast the blocking spell on him to prevent it.  When he raised his wand, I pointed mine at him and shouted, “Finite!”  (I pronounced it, “fin-EE-tay”…and although this sounds like an actual spell, I can’t remember if it is or not, and I’m fairly certain it is not a “blocking spell”.)

Cortney stared at me.  (Her brother was glaring, but she didn’t notice that, either.)  “What spell was that?” she said.

“Finite…the blocking spell,” I said.

“That isn’t the blocking spell.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.  The blocking spell is finite.”  (She pronounced it, “FIGH-night”.  Her brother sort of faded into the background as we launched into the “Argument Sketch”.)

“No; it’s fin-EE-tay,” I said.

“No, it’s FIGH-night!  All right, spell it!”

“F-i-n-i-t-e,” I said.

“That’s FIGH-night!”

“No; it’s FIGH-night in English; in Latin, it’s fin-EE-tay.”

There was a pause as Cortney contemplated this.

“Oh…so I guess that’s why it never works for me,” she finally said.

I love when Cortney and I argue over language when I’m dreaming.

The other dream took place early in the morning when I kept waking up and falling back asleep.  I could hear the sprinkler running against the outside of my house right behind my bed.  A long time ago, I had no idea what this strange sound was and used to picture hands scraping against the outside of my house.  But then we stopped running the sprinkler during hours that I slept; this was a fluke.  Perhaps that is why, hearing it again for the first time in forever, I pictured zombies.

Anyway, so I dreamed that the world was invaded by zombies, right there as I was lying in my bed.  I was lying there thinking, I wonder how long I have before they get into my house and eat me or whatever.

Then I thought, I suppose I should try and save The Mormon.

I figured that it would take me an hour to get to his house, and if I kept speeding, I could probably run over a good amount of zombies on the way and not have my car broken into.  And they were all over.  It was really, really creepy.

So I somehow made it to my car and was running down all these zombies on the way to his house, which they were also surrounding.

I called his cell phone.  Fortunately, he answered, so I was not stuck by myself out in the middle of nowhere with all of them.  Then I would have freaked.

“I am not getting out of my car,” I said, “but I have come to rescue you.  I’m waiting outside.”

So he came out, fought off a few zombies on the way, and got in.

THIS IS SO COOL!” he said.  You could tell he really meant it.  The Mormon is obsessed with zombie movies.

THIS IS NOT COOL!” I said.  “THERE IS NOTHING COOL ABOUT THIS!”

And that was pretty much the end of that one.

I just thought Cortney and The Mormon were both very much in character for just a dream.

A Wake-Up Shout, a Clone, and a Mad Hitman

I went to bed early in order to get a good eight hours of sleep and get up by 9, but was unfortunately awoken two hours earlier at 7:15 by the sounds of my extremely homophobic father shouting at Brother about what going to jail really means.

“THERE ARE A LOT OF MEN IN THERE WHO HAVE BEEN SEPARATED FROM THEIR GIRLFRIENDS FOR A LONG TIME!  DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!?  TELL ME WHAT THAT MEANS!”

I am not hearing this, I thought, attempting to go back to sleep, but this, unfortunately, was not possible until about two hours later, so I ended up sleeping until about 11 anyway.

I had two dreams last night–well, this morning, really.  In the first, Cortney went home to Illinois to visit family for a bit, then came back and told me there was this guy there I just had to meet.  So I took her word for it, and she and Nicole and I went up to Illinois for about a week.

While there, we took a trip to Sam’s Club, or something similar to it, where there was this guy working whom Cortney had met and spoken to for a while.  He looked and talked exactly like The Mormon, and even had the same name.  That was why Cortney had wanted me to see him.

When she introduced me to him, he said, “This’ll sound really strange, but you look exactly like my girlfriend.”  How weird is that?  So we followed him around, and I kept trying to hold hands with him and stuff, and finally I just thought, Why don’t I?  This guy is The Mormon.

Then we were writing all the stuff we were going to purchase up on this chalkboard, because their cash registers were broken or something, and I woke up (to Dad’s yelling) trying to rub chalk off of my hands.

The next dream was after I went back to sleep; I dreamed that Michelle, Adrianna, Turtle, Peck, and I were all hitmen for…somebody.  I don’t know who.  And Turtle was also crazy–he deliberately killed the wrong guy, laughing all the while.  For some reason, that whole Christian group that we had over the summer was in the cafe again, and Turtle killed one of them.  So then whoever we worked for sent me after Turtle, but Turtle knew this and kept trying to shoot me.  (This took place in the parking garage at UNF.)  And he kept laughing maniacally–it was really freaky!

When I saw Turtle tonight, I said, “I had this dream you were trying to shoot me and kept laughing creepily.”

He said, “Is that why you looked at me funny at first?”

“That’s why,” I said.

Something else of interest, completely unrelated to dreams–remember how I was griping about the old van in the previous entry? So this guy came to the door just today offering to break it down so he could have the parts. He even had the wrecker right there. My dad wants to get pictures of us all in front of it first, since we’ve had it since the year I was born (he gets weirdly sentimentally attached to objects), but after that we’re going to call the guy and get rid of it. Cool how that works out, huh?

And that’s pretty much it on news/stories for today.

I’m just trying to get caught up with all these dreams.

Last night, I dreamt that Psychobrat worked her evil, psychotic, manipulative powers on The Mormon and stole him from me–and, to add insult to injury, made him believe that I am the crazy one, so he was even a little afraid of me.  I woke up so pissed off….

When I told him about it, all I said was, “I had this horrible dream last night that Psychobrat stole you from me,” and he frowned and said, “This is already bad!”

Speaking of dreams, I promised to tell about the motorcycle one–of course, these are more for my benefit than yours, but if you enjoy reading them, by all means, do so.  But I understand if you don’t feel like wading through my subconscious and skip over these.

Anyway.  I dreamed that Peck, Turtle, Adrianna, Michelle, and I set up this booth thing on the green at UNF–an all-purpose sort of booth.  We took donations, we gave money out, we provided counseling…all services, basically.  For example:  People came by and just dropped us little donations, which, instead of looking like regular money, looked like spaghetti.  But it was supposed to be money.  One person came to us and said she wanted to just drop everything and take a trip to Paris.  We took out some strands of spaghetti and said, “Here you go, this should be enough, have fun!”

Somebody else came in and told us she was going to a premiere, so we dressed her up in a lovely prom dress and gave her a makeover and told her she was ready to go.

Another person came up and said he was looking to change his religion, and we had information on every religion for him to read through and choose one.

It was all pretty crazy, but in the dream it all made perfect sense.

So Jenna came in and said she wanted to go to Paris, and I told her we’d just sent somebody to Paris, but we’d see what we could do.

Then I told her I’d give her a ride to her house, and she got on the back of my motorcycle and we drove there, where I dropped her off.

It probably isn’t necessary to point out to anyone still reading that I don’t have a motorcycle in real life, but in the dream, this was completely beside the point.

So I dropped her off and then went to beat a level in SuperMario–but I wasn’t playing the game–I was playing.  I was in it.  And I finally beat it and a star appeared over me, and it looked just like a Mario star, until I jumped up and grabbed it, and in my hand it looked like a wet pasta star–felt like it, too.

Then in the distance, I saw another star, and thought, What is this?  It can’t give me two stars, can it?

But it did.  And then it gave me another, and another, and then it just kept giving me stars, and I was running all over, jumping up and grabbing all these pasta stars.

Then I got on the motorcycle and drove to Colorado.

I was just driving around by myself, enjoying the scenery, when I passed by another motorcycle, and this guy who was wearing a cowboy hat instead of a helmet.  He was driving along next to me for a while, until he turned off into a farm, and I followed him, because I had suddenly realized that I was lost.  (I did not, at this point, know that I was in Colorado, just that I’d started driving on one road and about a day later–yes, only a day–I was just now realizing that I was lost.)

So I asked this guy how to get back to Jacksonville, and he pointed in the direction I had already been going, anyway, and I said thanks and started driving.

About twenty minutes later, he was alongside me again, trying to get me to pull over.  Now keep in mind, I didn’t know this guy at all.  He wasn’t even played by somebody I knew in the dream.  He was just a random hot stranger.  Anyway, random hot stranger finally convinced me to pull over, and we started kissing right there on the side of the road, and I was really enjoying it, when all of a sudden I heard my cell phone ring and said, “Oh, shit!  Mormon!”

That was when I jolted awake and realized that it was not my cell phone, it was my alarm clock, and there was no strange hot cowboy biker and I hadn’t cheated on The Mormon after all.

I had another dream sometime over the past week that I felt the need to get out of my house one night and go sleep in a nice hotel room somewhere, because sleeping in hotels is fun, and I thought it would be so enjoyable and relaxing to go stay in one by myself for a night and not tell anybody where I was.  Just be completely incognito and responsibility-free all night.

Then I ended up, first of all, with a crappy room, and then having to solve a murder mystery that took place in the hotel–and I think somebody was trying to kill me, too, go figure.

I think that’s finally all the dreams from the last week.  And now I’m falling asleep, so any other actual stories I shall post sometime later.

Psychobrat, the $250 Hoop Skirt, and the Video Game

I’ve got some Psychobrat stories for you this morning.

First of all, Psychobrat, who demanded a car out of my parents, finally did get her way, of course.  And of course, she cannot afford to make the payments on it, so my parents are doing that for her.

But Psychobrat, who cannot afford her $150 car payments, also demanded a $250 prom dress from my parents, and got that, as well.  $250 she doesn’t have on a dress she will wear once.  It isn’t even attractive; it greatly resembles a hoop skirt.  (Just to show that I’m not being hypocritical here, my parents did buy me a car, but I have always made all of my own payments on it, and I used my own money to buy myself an $80 prom dress.)

So she’s been swishing around the house in her $250 hoop skirt, and I’ve been snickering behind my hand.

So there’s that.

Then there’s the matter of MarioKart.

When I got back from Cortney’s, I had this serious hankering to play MarioKart, so I went digging out our Nintendo and the few games Brother hadn’t sold and sat down to play it.  Two days later, I was about halfway to beating the game, when Psychobrat informed me that she was taking it to Spidermonkey’s house because they had nothing else to do but play this game.

I informed her that she wasn’t taking it, because I had dug it out of the spot it had been sitting in, unthought of, for the past three years, for me to play it, not her.

As everyone reading this probably knows by now, it doesn’t matter what you say to Psychobrat, because she will always have what she wants.  She walked straight into my room, took it (with plenty of assurances that it would be back that night) and left.

So yesterday, knowing perfectly well that MarioKart would stay at Spidermonkey’s for all eternity, because it now belongs to her and I can’t get to it there, I said, “So where’s MarioKart?”

This was when Psychobrat informed me that, as punishment for my being a bitch, it was still at Spidermonkey’s.

I, trying not to explode, walked into my room to call Katie, because I knew that would calm me down before I blew a fuse.  Katie wasn’t available, so I left her the following voice mail:

“Hello, how are you?  I’m just calling you to bitch, because according to PSYCHOBRAT!!!!!!, that is what I am.”  I paused here, because I was listening to Psychobrat call calmly from the other room, “Are you talking about yourself?”

“So…have a nice day,” I said, and hung up.

I love my sister.

What else has been happening lately?  I’ve spent a lot of time with The Mormon, which has been awesome, of course.  The other day he bought me a little stuffed kangaroo (that’s one of my favorite animals) just because.  How cute is that?  So I named them Stacia and Oswald (the mother and baby respectively) because those were the first two names that popped into my head.

Oh, speaking of The Mormon, I remembered another dream.  It’s kind of stupid, actually.  I dreamed I made him watch this horrible movie from the ’50s (it wasn’t real) that I realized about halfway through I had actually seen before, but we still kept watching it.  I had read this review that made it sound phenomenal, but later realized that the review was actually mine–it was here on my blog.  I had written up this whole phenomenal review of a completely detestable movie, just to see how good I could make it sound using double-talk or something.  It was so well-written, but the only thing I remember about it now is that at one point I used the phrase, “lovably loathsome” to describe a character.

All I really remember about the dream-movie is that it seemed to be about some stupid cop and a bunch of teenagers who kept getting the best of him as he chased them around town.

And I remembered, oddly, the tagline of the film, and wrote it down in the middle of the night so I wouldn’t forget:  “There’s nothing funnier than Lt. Don Chodiedrel.  Except the loads-funnier Sam don’t-remember-his-last-name.”  (The cop’s last name, despite the odd spelling, was pronounced ‘ka-DEE-drul’.)

The things my subconscious gets up to.

In other news…I feel like it’s been forever since I updated here, but that is because I am hard at work on an original novel–the first in a trilogy, in fact.  And yes, my main character is unabashedly based on myself and thus technically a Mary-Sue, but above the level of Bella.  Far…far above.

Anyway, I’ve been making some aesthetics to inspire myself, so here’s your very first hint of what I’m getting up to:Dean Aesthetic 2